


Lost and Found

by radstarmuffin



Series: Rune Factory Village Romance Week [2]
Category: Rune Factory 4
Genre: M/M, Marriage Proposal, RFVillageRomance, eeeventually lmao, i love the marriage events in this game okay, im catering to my exact niche needs yall, lol, t for teen is mostly for my dirty sailor mouth, this one got away from me too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 20:44:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18557515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radstarmuffin/pseuds/radstarmuffin
Summary: Day 2 - Home (for #RFVillageRomance week on tumblr)Home can be both the place you’ve lost and the place you’ve found, somehow. Doug didn’t think he’d ever recover from having his ripped away from him so violently, and Dylas didn’t think he’d be given a second chance after leaving his behind intentionally. You’d think knowing how lucky they are would make them better at this.





	Lost and Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm tired and definitely ruining my sleep schedule so i didn't have time to edit the later portion of the chapter, sorry! it's a bit of a mess but i'm just glad i finished it

“Aaaarrnnnmmmngghhhh…”

A sigh. “Doug, I don’t think you’re going to be able to improve your skills from the ground.”

He’s right, but that doesn’t mean Doug has to admit it.

“Aaalthough, if this works, promise you’ll provide a satisfied review for me, yeah? I bet there’s money to be made in the business of ‘Gaining Skills by Doing Nothing.’ Hmmm…”

Doug grunts, and shifts his position on the floor from ‘face-down’ to ‘everything-but-his-face-down,’ so he can glare sideways up at his current ‘teacher.’ He has yet to prove particularly worthy of this title.

(A less-frustrated part of Doug’s mind supplies that perhaps said teacher does deserve some credit, since they’d both known from the start what a lost cause this was.)

Completely oblivious to the glare he’s receiving from his (temporary) protege, and without Forte or Frey anywhere nearby to stop him, Bado’s scheming continues undeterred.

“We could market it like, ‘Soaking up the ambiance of the forge,’ or, ‘Becoming one with the forge;’ hmm, I could charge for time slots -- ah, classes -- and I’m sure I could fit about 10 or so students in here at a time, if we utilize all the floor space…”

“Gahhhhh. Badoooooo.” Doug flops his arms out to fully starfish on the (extremely dirty) floor near Bado’s forge and workstations. “Why is this so haaard? We’ve been at this _forever_ and it’s not like I’ve gotten any better.”

“Mmm?” Bado stops his sure-to-fail money scheming and returns his full attention to the lump of redheaded dwarf currently occupying his floor (for free). “That so?”

Apparently interested in Doug again, Bado walks closer. And proceeds to kick Doug’s right arm with enough force to actually send it back in towards his side.

“Hey--” Doug wants to be annoyed, but his protests die in his mouth when he realizes how close he’d come to impaling himself on a weird, very pointy prototype multi-pronged spear thing laying near his outstretched hand. Bado can’t be commended for his safety protocols, considering he left the dang thing out in the first place, but Doug does find the fact that he’d noticed the danger and done something about it immediately oddly considerate. For Bado, at least.

Well, if he can’t complain about being kicked, he’ll have to complain about something else. “Yes, Bado, that is so. I’m tired, and I’m hungry, and all I’ve managed to do is ruin a bunch of materials.”

“Hm. So, are you quitting then?”

The look Bado pins Doug with is uncharacteristically sharp. Doug isn’t really sure how to respond to it.

Shifting his eyes back to the bench Doug has been slaving over for the better part of the day, Bado’s tone shifts back into a more typical disinterested drawl as he continues, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, kid. I’m perfectly fine with getting my afternoons back instead of watching you beat the life out of once-precious metals.”

“Ugh.” Doug’s trying not to be negative about the whole thing, he really is, especially considering what it’s all for. But he’s also stressed the fuck out. Everything needs to go perfectly -- frankly, that might not even be enough. They’ve messed up enough of the usual steps already; _this_ , at least, should go well.

And he’d been so excited to do this, too. He was terrified, sure, and he was _already_ feeling more vulnerable than he had, maybe ever, aside from when he’d all but told Ventuswill he was giving up his quest. But mostly, most importantly, excited.

It was embarrassingly sappy, but he wanted, or maybe even needed, to share this piece of himself, so badly. He needed to acknowledge it, to make it more _real_ , because sometimes it honestly felt like maybe it wasn’t. Maybe he’d dreamed it. It was so different from when he’d first arrived, and it had scared him when he’d first realized that _Selphia_ felt the most real, the most solid.

Doug can’t imagine being in Frey’s position, having no memory of where he came from. Would it be easier, to forget? For it to be like it had all never happened at all, like it really was just a dream?

He can’t say he has any desire to know the answer to that.

When Doug sighs, dust and metal shavings and other bits and pieces of debris that are no doubt bad for his lungs fly into the air above the floor, swirling away from him. Strictly speaking, it’s been too long a pause to continue the conversation, but Bado’s still fiddling with the tools and scraps on the workbench, and for all his apparent nonchalance Doug gets the feeling Bado’s still waiting for an answer.

“Alriiight. Fine, old man, I get it already,” Doug relents, using the pad of his finger to trace patterns into the floor instead of looking directly at Bado. “I’m not quitting, just, gimme a minute to mope in peace.”

If Doug didn’t know any better, he’d say he saw a brief smile flicker across Bado’s face before he steps away to tidy some of the clutter lining the walls. And not his lazy, everyday ‘I’m-a-happy-go-lucky-dude’ smile or his ‘I’ve-just-thought-of-the- _best-_ idea’ smirk, but one of the really soft genuine ones that Doug’s pretty sure he reserves solely for his kids. And since Doug’s not Kiel or Forte, that can’t be it. Probably for the best, because even just the passing thought that it could have been does… _things_ to Doug that he’s not sure he’s ready to address.

Maybe it was actually a grimace, because maybe Bado really is annoyed that he agreed to waste his time on helping someone as hopeless as Doug for basically nothing in return, and maybe he _wanted_ Doug to quit.

This is also unlikely, but it alleviates the weird pressure in his chest. And Doug can’t help it. He’s been in a state of constant worry and self-doubt since he asked for Bado’s help with the _first_ thing. (Of course, Kiel and Arthur have been much more help with that in the end, but still.) It’s even gotten to the point where Granny’s worried about him, which in turn makes Doug more worried about _her_ , and--

The bell trinket hanging on the blacksmith’s front door jingles, signaling the arrival of a customer. Doug’s facing away from the door, so he can’t see who it is, and since he’s not in the mood to see anyone (don’t they know how to respect a dude when he’s moping?), he doesn’t bother turning around.

For someone who cares so much about making money and getting rich, Bado runs his shop with a dangerously loose fist. He lets people ring themselves up when he’s not in, and indeed has been largely ignoring any customers who’d come in while he’d been working with Doug before. Doug’s not sure how that honor system hasn’t gotten him robbed yet, but somehow Bado’s been pulling it off for years. Maybe people realize they’d have to face the wrath of both Bado _and_ Forte if they tried any funny business.

Whatever the case, this time, Bado walks around the corner to greet the customer, rather than relying on the sign on his desk. He steps over Doug’s listless body easily on the way, stirring some of the debris around. (Maybe he does know how to respect a dude when he’s moping.)

He can hear Bado drawl, “Welcome,” but Doug’s not really interested in whatever this customer is looking for, so he purposely ignores whatever pleasantries are being exchanged.

The door swings closed as the customer enters the smithy, sealing away the muffled sounds of the sweet, sweet freedom of the street outside. The bells jingle again, softer this time.

Doug still remembers the year Kiel had decided Bado needed something to alert him to customers while he was in the back working the forge--“Since Forte has a legitimate job to do now and can’t always be there to yell at him anymore.”

Kiel had asked for Doug and Vishnal’s opinions on his design, and the three of them had decided it was loud enough for its intended purpose, pleasant enough that it shouldn’t annoy the customers, and decorative enough that it added to the decor (not that Bado cared too much about that to begin with).

Really, it had already been perfect by the time Kiel had shown either of them. And Doug’s still not sure why he even had; probably it was because, at the time, Vishnal and Doug had been the only other boys around Kiel’s age in town. It’s also possible that Vishnal and Doug had simply been the first people Kiel had seen when he’d decided he wanted a second opinion.

Doug knows Kiel well enough by now that he can guess Kiel probably had been excited by the prospect of more friends and hadn’t cared who they were, whether or not that had been his intention in that particular case. If it weren’t for Kiel, Doug’s sure he’d have continued his self-imposed isolation for way too long. Vishnal had helped too of course, so fucking much, but it was Kiel who’d first gathered the three of them together, and Doug would always be grateful for it.

Doug’s never told Kiel--or anyone, for that matter--but simply being asked for his opinion on a gift like that, when he was still so new and still so quiet and so cold and so depressed, had meant more to him than he could even say. Kiel’s probably forgotten all about it, but having the town’s resident social butterfly and gossip include him in something so important, such a meaningful gift, was something Doug was sure he’d never forget. Then again, maybe it shouldn’t have been surprising for the very reason that it had been someone so social who’d included him…

“...new method of improving forging and crafting skills. Don’t suppose you’d be interested in trying it out, miss?”

Oh, shit. Doug may have been trying to zone out, but he hadn’t meant for it to work this well. He reminisces for all of two minutes and Bado’s already trying to sell some poor sap a fresh load of buffamoo shit. _(Please tell me it’s not Vishnal again…)_

Ah, right. Doug realizes Bado had called the customer a “miss” at the same time he catches sight of her. Good. As funny as it is when Vishnal falls for something ridiculous, it’s kind of embarrassing to be stuck with _two_ extremely gullible best friends. At least Kiel can _sometimes_ see through Bado’s tricks. Occasionally.

Doug’s relief at not seeing Vishnal about to sell his soul for the chance to miraculously improve his cooking skill (again) quickly fades, however, as Doug realizes the mystery customer isn’t quite so mysterious. He’s seen her around before, peddling...souvenirs? (Doug’s not sure how someone can sell souvenirs for a place they’re only visiting, but she looks like a badass and it’s not like Doug really cares who sells what, as long as Granny’s shop is still doing well.)

Technically speaking, though, the most striking thing about her isn’t her wares but rather her long, fiery red hair, very similar in color to Doug’s own. Doug doesn’t pay much attention to tourists and stuff normally, but he’d be hard-pressed to forget this one. After the first time someone asked whether she was his sister visiting him, thanks to the pointed ears and the red hair and the light eyes, he’s made a point of avoiding her whenever she’s in town.

It’s not like he’s ever able to explain that it’s impossible. Her eyes are light, but they’re an icy blue (he’s checked, and double-checked, and from the beginning it’s not like she looked familiar to him, anyway, so there was _no point_ to checking). Doug’s pretty sure she’s not even a dwarf.

He gets why people have asked, but that doesn’t make him any more prepared to hear it.

“...so, he’s not your employee?” the redheaded girl mumbles, seemingly lost in thought. Doug’s glad she doesn’t seem to have noticed the way he’s likely glaring at her. It’s not her fault, and he doesn’t mean to direct any of his frustrations at her, but he knows he’s not particularly good at controlling his facial expressions.

Bado’s laughing, full-bodied, and it takes Doug a second to process what she’d actually said beyond her mere existence. When it clicks why Bado is laughing, Doug groans.

“Ha! Nice one. If I’m paying someone, you think I’d just let them lay around and sleep on the job?”

(Yikes. Doug’s never had reason to think about Bado hiring help before, but the exploitation of labor that would surely at least be attempted terrifies Doug to his own lazy core.)

For some reason, the girl’s brow furrows at the suggestion. If she’s put off by the idea of someone sleeping on the job, Doug should introduce her to Xiao Pai so they can team up on him about his work ethic and finish his bad day off on a low note.

“Besides,” Bado continues, “I’d definitely never hire _this one_ to work in a smithy--no offense, kid.”

“None taken,” Doug mutters into the floor. He’s too tired and defeated to defend himself. _(And it’s true, anyway.)_

The gasp he hears in response surprises him. _(Is it that unthinkable that a dwarf is unskilled in crafting..?)_

However, when he lifts his head again to pout properly--with an audience--Doug can clearly see that her attention is not on him and his dwarven inadequacy. Instead, she’s looking at Bado.

Specifically, at what Bado is twirling idly between his fingers atop the front desk. One of Doug’s failed creations from earlier.

Or, what Bado _was_ twirling between his fingers. When Red (is Doug allowed to call other people that?) noticies that everyone’s stopped moving and all eyes are on her, she fidgets uncomfortably and, with effort, mumbles, “That… Can I see that?”

Bado follows her line of sight to his hands, blinks in a sort of languid surprise, like he’d forgotten he had it, shrugs and says, “Sure,” and tosses it lightly to her.

This is too much for Doug. It’s one thing if Bado sees his failures, but all those failed rings are building up to something incredibly personal, and Doug’s already-higher-than-usual anxiety spikes at the thought of this stranger seeing something she shouldn’t.

Before he can think through the logic that a stranger is probably who he should be least worried about seeing something like this--she doesn’t know him, what does she care--Doug is already leaping up from the floor and lunging to intercept the ring in the air.

He fails, handily. He’d been laying way too far away, and it had taken way too long to get up, so it’s a kind of pathetic time lag between when Red catches the ring and when Doug gets close enough that he could have done anything about it.

And now the three of them are standing around in varying shades of silence.

Unable to meet the confused stranger’s eyes, Doug turns to Bado and hisses, “What’re you doing?”

“She wanted to see it,” Bado shrugs, unperturbed, “Where’s the harm in that?”

“You know exac--”

“Oohh, I see,” Bado’s grin slants lopsided as he interrupts, “Maybe if someone besides me tells me how shitty your work is, you’ll be motivated to improve. How _awful_ would that be?” and winks. The bastard has the audacity to _wink_.

“I--Bado, I already _know_ it’s shitty, but you can’t--”

“...The workmanship is… ‘shitty,’” Red agrees, and, oh, okay, ouch. Kinda harsh critique to give to someone she just met.

She inspects it from all hideous, shitty angles, and the weirdest thing happens. She...smiles? Doug wouldn’t even call it smiling, if not for the way it kind of reminds him of some of Dylas’ smaller smiles. Unintentional ones, ones that are really more like a fond look than anything. In Doug’s book, those count as smiles, and there’s something in the way her face relaxes even as her focus remains sharp that gives Doug the same smile vibes.

When she’s satisfied, she looks up, and Doug belated remembers he’s supposed to be mad that she called his creation shitty. Only he (and Bado) get to do that.

“It’s perfect.”

Doug’s words die on his tongue. _(Wait, what?)_

“What’s that, miss?” Bado blinks, eyebrows raised.

“It’s ruined beyond repair.” Her eyes are gleaming, practically sparkling. “How much?”

“Wait, what??” No one pays Doug any mind. _(She’s serious???)_ “Um, BadooooOh, shit.”

Bado’s eyes are also gleaming, only Doug knows all _he’s_ thinking about is money. He’s probably trying to figure out if trash is trending and how much he can make off of Doug’s mangled excuses for accessories if that’s the case.

“Oh no. Nope. Cut that out,” Doug says, snapping his fingers in front of Bado’s face in a vain attempt to break the reverie. “Uh, listen, it’s flattering and all that you think, uh. _That_. Is worth anything, but it’s really not for sa--umph!”

Bado’s stupidly lanky body was now leaned over his front desk, hand clamped firmly over Doug’s mouth.

“Don’t mind him. That ring is _one of a kind_ though, so… how much are you willing to pay?”

“Whuaduhhthghuumgh?!?!”

“See, he’s agreeing, it’s quite price--Ow.”

“What the hell, Bado!”

“Now you’re just making a scene in front of this nice, paying customer,” Bado replies, wiping spit off his hand. With an eyebrow raised and a mock-serious tone, he continues, “If I _could_ fire you, I definitely would for assaulting your boss--”

“Um. Sorry. Nevermind.” Said paying customer, indeed looking very sorry she’d ever asked, places the ring back on the front counter between them.

“Aw,” Bado deflates, looking more like a kicked puppy than he has any right to, “see, Doug, this is why you can’t work here. You’ve ruined the sale.”

Doug narrows his eyes in a defiant glare. It wasn’t even Bado’s to sell to begin with! With a sigh, Doug mutters, “You know why you can’t sell that.”

“You mean, aside from the fact that it’s garbage, which she doesn’t seem to mind?”

“Wh--Hey! Bado--”

“Sorry, miss,” Bado turns back towards Red with some terrible combination of both an apologetic and a teasing expression on his face, “He’s just sentimental because he’s still learning to forge--something about some kind of weeeiird dwarven tradition--”

“You’re a dwarf, too!”

“--where you can’t get married until you’ve made rings for everyone and their uncle--”

“Just--just the important uncles--”

“Whatever you say, kid, and you can call me a dwarf all you want--”

“I _will_ because you _are one_ \-- _!_ ”

“--But, remind me which of us is the short one here--”

“I am not short!!”

Doug doesn’t remember moving, but he punctuates his last outburst with smacking both his hands down on the store counter between Bado and himself. And… the souvenir girl. Who is still standing there. Right.

Still unable (unwilling) to meet her eyes, he glares up at Bado with renewed strength. Bado’s eyes are laughing back down at him. He looks like the cat that got the canary, but Doug can’t imagine why that could possibly be. As far as he can tell they both just made fools of themselves, getting a stranger caught in the middle of their dumb argument.

Doug squeezes his eyes shut and sighs. This whole thing shouldn’t be this painful, should it? It should be a good thing. Like, Best Thing Ever-level shit. It’s not fair for everything to go wrong before he even tries to _ask_.

Finally, he turns to her. “It’s not just some dumb tradition, it’s actually specific to my clan, and it’s really import--uh.”

Doug  _ had _ wanted to make a point of making eye contact with her, but this is excessive. She’s leaning into his personal space, and staring straight into his eyes. She’s super focused and intense, and it’s weirding Doug out. 

She almost looks like she’s looking for something, but when Doug leans away from her, she seems to realize how close she’s gotten. Her blue eyes fly wide open, and she practically leaps away from him.

Her face is beet red when she murmurs, “...Sorry.”

“Uh, it’s alright.”

“...”

_ (Awkward! When did it get so awkward in here?) _

Bado sighs, loudly and with purpose. “Well, I guess that ring’s not for sale after all. Can I interest you in anything else?”

Doug meets Bado’s passive-aggressive side-eye with one of his own. “You really are shameless, aren’t you.”

“There’s no shame in trying to earn a living.”

The Souvenir Girl is still a little flushed, but she seems less flustered than when she leapt across the room. She’s looking at Doug’s failed attempt at a ring thoughtfully.

“You… need to make a lot of these before you can propose, right?”

“Wh-what?”

“Hah. You catch on quick. Unlike some other people around here.”

“Shut up!”

Her eyes don’t really meet his, but she glances in Doug’s general direction and asks, “Need help?”

Doug doesn’t like the way he feels like she’s observing him, even if she isn’t looking directly at him. What kind of stranger just randomly offers help out of the blue, anyway?

Unfortunately, Bado doesn’t seem to share his concerns. “Oh, yes, does he ever. I’m tired -- been trying to teach him all day. I could use a break.”

“Hey, wait! You can’t just force someone else to teach me!”

“Don’t worry about it. Why don’t you kids have some fun, make some rings, and I’ll watch the store.”

“What?! Half the time you don’t even watch the store anyway!” 

Bado chooses to ignore him and says over Doug’s shoulder, “Make sure he doesn’t break anything, won’t you?”

And this girl -- this  _ complete stranger _ \-- nods back at Bado, completely serious.

“Wait, don’t I get any say in this?! It’s my lessons!”

“Doug, listen,” Bado pauses dramatically like he’s about to drop some serious wisdom. Which is usually a bad sign. “You need all the help you can get.”

“Urk.”

“Maybe she can teach you something I can’t, you never know!”

“Bado, I know you just want to get out of helping me.”

“Maybe so, Doug-o.”

“...Are you coming?”

The Redheaded Souvenir-ist pokes her head around the corner of Bado’s workshop. She’d already gone ahead and walked in ahead of Doug, apparently.

Doug looks from her to Bado and back again. Neither of them look like they’re interested in backing down, and Doug is forced to admit defeat. 

“Okay, fiiine. You two win.”

Doug drags his feet after the near stranger and sits down next to her on the workbench, not expecting much.

However, even though she uses the least amount of words possible and is generally very quiet, she’s really good at demonstrating the steps. And it’s quickly evident that she really knows what she’s doing. She’s quick to point out all the things he’s doing wrong, and how to fix them.

Before long, a ring is starting to take shape in Doug’s hands (or maybe it’s really her hands, with all the demonstrating and her easily apparent skills). And it really looks like a ring! Not a tortured piece of metal!

He still makes plenty of mistakes, and he still gets the sense that she’s testing him or studying him for some reason, but her advice is solid. And for as brusque as she appears, she’s really helpful. 

“Whoa!! Hey, check it out! This ain’t half bad, huh?” Doug waves the metal thing around, trying to catch the best lighting. There are definitely still some imperfections, but it’s a total improvement from the first few he’d made.

Bado’s watching with feigned disinterest from the front desk. Souvenir Girl drops a couple of things in front of him -- Doug hadn’t even noticed her pass him on the way back into the shop proper.

“I’ll take these.”

As Bado rings her up for some metal materials and an amethyst ring (one that Bado made and is therefore well-crafted), Doug walks over and shoves the new ring he just made in Bado’s face.

“Isn’t it amazing what a _ good _ teacher can help you achieve, Bado?”

“Yeah, I’m real proud of you, kid. You finally managed to make something that doesn’t look like a tiny finger-eating monster. Kudos to you.”

“Finger eating monster?! Look at this! It’s art!”

“Exactly. Compared to before, even that looks like art.”

“Hey! Even if it’s true, you don’t have to say it like that...”

Kiel’s handmade door chime rings again. Paused in the doorframe, Souvenir Girl looks back over her shoulder and says, “No, it wasn’t me. ...You already had a good foundation,” and walks out into the street.

“Huh. She’s quiet, but she’s way nicer than you, old man.”

Bado raises a brow at Doug before turning around to rearrange some (perpetually) haphazardly displayed weapons, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like “She probably doesn’t have so many of you dang kids to worry about.”

Doug’s about to comment on it when his eyes land on something left sitting on the counter.

“Oh, shit!”

“What?” Bado asks, barely turning around in time to see Doug snatch it before he runs towards the door.

“She forgot something! I’ll be right back!”

Doug charges out after her, not waiting to hear Bado’s reply. He spies her long red hair already weaving through the town square, towards Yokmir Forest. Admittedly, he’d expected she’d head for the airship, so he loses a bit of time trying to get his feet back under him as he course-corrects.

She’s fast, but she’s not running, so Doug’s able to catch up to her fairly easily, although he does get a Look from Margaret when he runs past her. Doug does not want to get an earful from her about his manners or not racing through town or whatever.

“Hey! Wait up! You forgot this!” Doug shouts after Souvenirs, perhaps a touch louder than necessary, hoping for the bonus that Meg will overhear his being a Good Samaritan.

Souvenirs looks surprised when she hears him, and that surprise only grows when she sees what Doug’s holding out to her.

“That’s…”

She gestures to wave him off, but he pushes it into her hand anyway.

“No, it’s yours. I owe you anyway! Thanks for your help!” Doug says, flashing her a wide smile and a thumbs-up.

“...Are you sure..?”

“Yeah, of course! Sorry about earlier,” Doug says, moving his hand to rest on the back of his head. “I’ve been overthinking all this stuff, but you really helped me out.”

She looks hard at the misshapen ring in her hand for a moment before turning her sharp gaze on Doug instead. For a moment, it’s like before -- she’s staring through him, like there’s a puzzle mapped on his face and she’s trying to crack it -- and then she drops her gaze to her palm again.

“Okay. Thank you.” She slips it into her bag. “I...have a friend back home who’s going to be very happy with this.”

She’s looking at him again, but that intensity is gone. Instead, she’s smiling one of those soft Dylas-ish smiles.

“Oh? I can’t really imagine why, but I’m glad someone will get use out of it. It’d just be scrap metal if we kept it here, anyway, haha.”

She hums in response. She looks like she wants to say something else, but when she speaks, all she says is, “See you. ...Doug.”

“Huh? Uh, yeah, later!” 

One last over-the-shoulder glance and Souvenir Girl is gone, a souvenir richer. 

And, oops. She’d helped him out all that time and he never bothered to ask her name. She’d even remembered his! He was sure she’d never asked for it, so she must have remembered Bado saying it. Or maybe she was just a psychic or something? She did have a sort of odd air about her.

Well, it’s not overly important. And since Doug has a lot of particularly important things on his mind right now, he doesn’t have the time to think about the mysterious girl. 

Maybe if he sees her again, he’ll try talking to her, but for now, he’d better get back to Bado’s. He’s on a (one-ring) roll, and he’s not about to stop there! He has a lot he needs to get done before he's ready. Dylas better watch out!

**Author's Note:**

> So, “Home” immediately made me think of them. I mean, to be fair, the majority of the cast of rf4 is one big ol lovely found family trope and let’s just say I am a fan. Maybe i’m biased bc it’s one of my favorite games ever and picking it up again even now feels like going home in a sense, but i knew this prompt would have to be from this game.
> 
> Also i feel i should mention that Doug is my favorite. I love Dylas too but them's the breaks. I am also very sorry Dylas isn't even in this first chapter ^ ^;; he'll be in the next one I swear.
> 
> tbh i haven’t really played rf4 in ages so if i've forgotten how characters talk and stuff, oops. though I did finally pick up rf3 and i’ve been tearing through that, so, uh, you could say that was inspiration for some components of this fic as well, ahaha.


End file.
